


A Friend To Carry You

by thinkoutsidethebex



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Death of a Parent, Depression, F/M, I'm so sorry, Night Terrors, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, basically i kicked bucky barnes right in the chest, but I love him so much, suicide baiting, this one is real heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23623147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkoutsidethebex/pseuds/thinkoutsidethebex
Summary: After coming back from the Blip but losing his best friend, Bucky is having a hard time adjusting. He thinks it's all over for him, but then he meets you.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	A Friend To Carry You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song You Will be Found from the musical Dear Evan Hansen.

Night pressed in on Bucky’s windows as he stared out, a drink in his hand and a weight on his heart. The drink was mostly just for something to do. He hadn’t been able to get drunk since World War II. But lately, if he didn’t have something in his hands he would just pick at his skin until it bled.

Everything had changed. He knew it was a cliché old man thing to be angry at the world for changing, but he was. It would have been one thing if he had been able to witness it, but it had happened while he was asleep. The world moved by leaps and bounds while Bucky was left to crawl. Brooklyn was almost unrecognizable, overflowing with vintage clothing stores and artisan coffee shops.

And then, there was the internet. The spider-kid had convinced him to get a twitter account at some point, even though Bucky didn’t understand it. Why did people feel the need to broadcast their every thought to the world?

“People will love you, Mr. Bucky!” He’d been so enthusiastic and sure of himself. Bucky couldn’t even remember a time he was that innocent. Must be nice.

It had started out harmless enough. Bucky looked at it as a journal of sorts. He gained a decent following and he was able to use his reach to spread awareness for things he felt mattered. Veteran’s charities, Blip support, and the World War II museum all saw influxes in donations whenever he tweeted about them. It felt good knowing that he was able to help people using his phone instead of a gun.

It all went downhill so fast. Bucky had been scrolling through twitter late that night when he couldn’t sleep. That part wasn’t uncommon. It wasn’t a great habit, but it was one he’d picked up one anxiety-ridden night. He tweeted something nonchalant, just a workout picture, and immediately started getting notifications of replies from the same account. Curious, he clicked on the name. His eyes widened when he realized what it was; hundreds upon hundreds of tweets, blaming him for Steve.

The official story was that Steve had died with Tony in the battle. Everyone had agreed that was easier than trying to explain time-travel to the public. Lying didn’t really bother any of them, and it wasn’t a stretch to assume they’d lost another Avenger in the fight. Nobody had questioned it, and Bucky didn’t think much more of it.

Until now.

Every few seconds a new message would pop up telling him how terrible he was. Some of them were just attacking him over Steve, but the more vicious ones dug into his past. They restarted the rumor that he’d assassinated Kennedy and blamed him for loved ones they’d lost during various sightings of the Winter Soldier. Most of it he could shake off. Nobody behind their phone screen could hate him more than he already hated himself. He might not be the Winter Soldier anymore, but the ghosts of his victims still wailed against his skull whenever Bucky closed his eyes. He remembered all of them, and he didn’t need faceless icons on his phone reminding him. But people hating him for that wasn’t anything new.

_RT if you think Bucky should be dead instead of Steve Rogers._

Harsh, but nothing worse than Bucky had thought about himself.

_100 likes and I’ll send Bucky Barnes and rope and instructions on how to hang himself._

“Damn,” he mumbled to himself. That one actually made his breath catch a little. He should have stopped reading right there, but for some reason, he kept going.

_Bucky Barnes is a monster and a murderer. The world would be a better place without him. Steve Rogers should have let him die so we could all still have Captain America._

Bucky locked the phone and set it face down on the table. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and even though there was nobody with him, he felt ashamed. He’d thought a lot about that exact scenario. If he’d gone back, or even just gone with Steve to take the stones back, maybe he could have convinced him to come back. Sniffling and wiping his eyes, Bucky stuffed his phone in his pocket, tugged on his coat, and left his apartment.

Even though he’d never admit it to anyone, losing Steve had been really hard. It was like the moment when he fell from the train stretched out for months. When Shuri had finally rid him of the Winter Soldier programming, he had let himself believe for the briefest of moments that just maybe, he and Steve could navigate this new world they’d found themselves in together again. It had always been the two of them, Bucky and Steve, til the end of the line.

But fate had never been kind to Bucky Barnes. From the moment Steve had signed up for Erskine’s experiment, he had cemented this exact future. Nothing could ever be the way it was before.

Bucky walked out of his building and through the darkened streets of Brooklyn. His feet guided him slowly along the path he knew well. Even just walking down the street brought up memories that ripped through him like a knife. A building that used to be a theatre he and Steve had frequented as kids. An alley he’d saved Steve from being beaten up in. A storefront where they’d bought their first record player. Bucky fought back more tears as he turned a corner.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. He knew getting back to normal wouldn’t be easy, but he was supposed to have Steve. He’d prepared himself to do all of this with his best friend, and now he was alone. Sure, he had Sam and Wanda and the rest of the Avengers, but it wasn’t the same. They could empathize but Steve was the only one who _knew._ And he was gone. And Bucky was alone.

He rounded another corner and walked down the path to the Brooklyn Bridge. The pedestrian path was empty and nearly pitch black. It was late, and Bucky was grateful nobody was nearby. It would make what he had to do easier.

There was a particularly dark patch of the bridge about a quarter of a mile down that looked like it would work. He approached it slowly, taking in the sights of the city. It wasn’t the New York he knew anymore and seeing it from here only cemented that for him. He breathed in deep, and slowly climbed over the railing.

After 107 years roaming the earth, fighting and killing, Bucky was ready to let it all go. He was ready to die. Of course, for a super-soldier, that was easier said than done. As far as the doctors could tell, he was physically somewhere in his early thirties. The idea of another seventy years walking the earth, watching his friends and family die or leave him behind was worse than any torture HYDRA had ever come up with. This was where it ended for him.

Bucky stood like that for a moment, one foot on either side of the rail, looking down at the river below. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. Notifications from twitter lit up the screen. Tweet after tweet calling him a monster and a killer. He opened his message app and considered saying goodbye to Sam or Shuri, or hell even Peter, but he hesitated. He didn’t even know what he’d say. I’m sorry? Goodbye? I wish I were better? Tears spilled from his eyes as he let the phone slip through his fingers and into the icy water.

Wind brushed Bucky’s hair back from his face as he took one last look out over the city. The corner of his mouth twitched a bit as he saw the first specks of morning breaking over the horizon. He was surprised to find he felt oddly calm as he looked down. Just as he was about to release his grip on the railing, he heard someone behind him.

“Don’t.”

His grip retightened as he turned toward the voice. A woman stood on the path behind him, eyes wide and pleading. Bucky couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard her coming. There was still nobody else on the path and by the way her chest was heaving, she had to have come running toward him.

“Don’t,” she repeated. “Don’t let go.”

“I didn’t think anyone would find me,” was all Bucky could manage.

“I found you,” she said softly, moving toward him.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “I’m okay. You don’t have to stay.”

“Yes, I do,” she replied. She started crying and Bucky turned to get a better look at her.

“Why are you crying?” he blurted out.

“If you come back over the railing, I’ll tell you.” Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at her words. It was the first time he’d laughed since Steve left. Something in his laugh gave her more confidence and she took another step forward.

“Look, I’m not gonna try and act like I know what you’re going through because obviously, I don’t. But what I do know is that I found you for a reason. You need help, and I can help you. All you have to do is reach out and take my hand.” By the time she finished, she was standing next to him and holding out her hand.

Bucky was equal parts amazed and confused by this woman. He’d never met her before, he was sure of that. She had simply appeared out of the shadows like the morning breaking in front of him, a stranger trying to save his life. Part of him was telling him to just let go. One stranger didn’t change anything. He was still alone and hated and feared.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe she was right, and she’d found him for a reason. He looked around as dawn broke over the river, and without really thinking he took her hand. She held his tightly as he climbed back over and didn’t let go until his feet were firmly on the path next to her.

She took a small step back and her shoulders sagged as she let out the breath she’d been holding in. The two of them stood in silence for several minutes, not knowing what to say to ease the awkward tension.

“I’m Y/N,” she said timidly, holding out her hand again. Bucky took it quicker this time and shook it gently.

“James,” he replied. He wasn’t sure why he gave her his real name, but something told him to.

“James,” she repeated. “Do you have somewhere you can go? Somewhere safe?”

Bucky drew in a breath to answer her but let it out without speaking. Safe. Was home safe? Nobody could get in, but other people weren’t who he was worried about right now. There wasn’t a person alive who could do more damage to him that he was doing to himself. But he didn’t want to go home. If he did, he’d be right back where he started. He was taking too long to answer, and he could feel it. Blissfully, Y/N didn’t leave him to linger.

“If you want, I have a guest room you can stay in,” she offered. He laughed again, louder this time, and he saw her bite back her own. “What’s so funny?”

“N-nothing,” he laughed, wiping at his eyes. “Just surprised you’d offer to take home a stranger you just literally pulled off a ledge.”

“I’ve found people generally need the most help right after they’ve been pulled off a ledge,” Y/N said with a soft smile. “But it’s up to you. If you want, I can get you an uber or something.”

He couldn’t explain why, but the idea of leaving Y/N filled Bucky with dread. It shouldn’t, since he’d known her for all of five minutes, but it did.

“I um…,” he stammered. “I can’t really go home.” She nodded slowly and cleared her throat.

“Do you want to come with me, James?”

Bucky was dumbfounded by this woman. She should be terrified of him, the suicidal man she’d found on the bridge, but she wasn’t. Her eyes were soft and kind and held no fear or malice. She trusted him and he couldn’t rationalize why but he trusted her too. His mouth was too dry to speak, so he only nodded. Y/N didn’t say anything else. She just took his hand again and lead him over to her car. It was still running, and the driver’s door was flung open from where she’d jumped out when she spotted him.

The drive back to her apartment was short, but quiet. Bucky wanted to ask her something, anything to break the silence, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. When they passed by his building he stiffened involuntarily in his seat. Something in him was afraid that Y/N would come to her senses and kick him out, and he’d have to go back to that empty apartment. Alone. Y/N noticed the change in his posture and reached for his hand. He held her tightly, relaxing slightly as they turned the next corner. It wasn’t much farther when she stopped outside her home.

The silence stretched on as they walked up the stairs to her apartment. Bucky stepped inside hesitantly and looked around. It was small but cozy, and it smelled like old books and flowers. Plants lined the bookshelves and windowsills, and a vase of yellow roses sat in the center of the dining room table. Y/N slipped off her shoes and coat and fidgeted nervously.

“It’s not much,” she said with a blush. “But it’s home.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks.” She looked down at her hands and Bucky stuffed his in his pockets. “So, you’re probably pretty tired. The guest room is right through there. The bed is all made up and the bathroom is across the hall if you want to wash up. You can get some rest and when you wake up, we can figure out what’s next.” Y/N smiled at him and turned to go into her own room when Bucky called out to her.

“Why?” he asked bluntly. The question had been on his mind since the second she asked him not to jump. She didn’t know him from any other stranger on the street. She could have just kept driving and the world would be rid of him and all his atrocities by now, but she didn’t. Something had made her stop, and Bucky had to know what. Y/N turned to look at him, a soft smile on her face and one hand resting on the door frame.

“Because when I was broken on the ground, somebody found me too,” she said. “You’re not alone, James.” He was crying again but bless Y/N, she didn’t call attention to it. Bucky sniffled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome. Sleep well, James.” With that, she disappeared into her room and shut the door. Bucky stayed, rooted in the spot, for another moment. He thought about leaving. He could walk out the door and go back to the bridge to finish what he’d started. Y/N might be sad, but she wouldn’t mourn a stranger for too long. She’d be okay and the world would be a better place.

Somehow, despite his train of thought, Bucky found himself moving toward the bathroom. He flicked on the light and quietly splashed some water on his face. Something was different. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was, but it was something. Y/N’s words were still ringing in his ears when he closed the door of the guest room behind him.

_You’re not alone, James._

He was. Bucky knew he was alone. He had been since the second Steve stepped onto that platform in the woods. His family, his friends, everyone from the time he belonged in was gone. Nobody that he had now really knew him. He had nobody. Only now, he didn’t feel like it. As his eyes started to fall closed, he felt his loneliness start to ebb by just the smallest bit, washed away by a stranger reaching out a hand and taking him home.

The sun was already waning by the time Bucky woke up. It took him a minute to orient himself to his unfamiliar surroundings. Soon enough, the events of the previous night came back to him. He looked at the clock and groaned low in his throat when he realized he’d been asleep for almost tweleve hours. He hadn’t slept like that since-God he couldn’t remember when. A soft knock on the door filled the room.

“James?” Y/N called quietly. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he replied, getting up to open the door. There she stood, the angel who’d pulled him from the brink, flesh and bone before him. She wasn’t a dream. She was real.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said with a smile. “I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.” Bucky blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his metal hand.

“Yeah, sorry I-“ he started, but the words caught suddenly when the light glinted off his arm. He’d forgotten that he’d taken his jacket and hoodie off to sleep, and his arm was on full display in the t-shirt he was left in. Slowly, and with tremendous fear, he looked into Y/N’s eyes.

There was nothing. No shock, no horror, and no judgment. Just the same kindness in her eyes that he’d seen the night before. It was like his prosthesis barely registered to her.

“I made some dinner if you’re hungry,” she said. “My ma’s lasagna recipe.” Bucky nodded slowly and smiled.

“I’d like that.”

Despite the insane circumstances of the past twelve hours, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a sense of domestication as he sat down to dinner with Y/N. The last time he’d actually sat down for a meal with another person was before the war. Y/N served him up a big slice of lasagna and sat down across from him. She moved the roses from the table to they could see each other and offered him a soft smile.

“Thank you,” he said, hoping that she understood he was thanking her for so much more than dinner.

“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile, the light in her eyes telling him she did. He dug into dinner, and a wide smile spread across his face as he ate. Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, and he cleared his throat.

“Red pepper flakes?” he asked, and Y/N gasped.

“How did you guess my super-secret ingredient?” she demanded, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

“It ain’t so secret, darlin,” he said. “My ma used to use it too.” They laughed together and Y/N smiled at him.

“You have a nice laugh,” she said, resting her chin on her hand.

“So do you,” he replied. Both of them blushed and returned to eating in silence. Bucky finished his food and looked nervously up at her.

“Did you mean it?” he asked timidly.

“Mean what?”

“When you said you could help me,” he said. “Did you mean it?” Y/N sighed and set her utensils down, crossing her arms on the table.

“Do you want me to?” she asked. Bucky considered her question for a long time before he answered. If she’d asked him that when he’d stepped onto the bridge the night before, he would have said no. He’d believed for so long that he deserved this pain. How many lives had been cut short because of him? How many people grew up without family members because he’d taken them away? His life would be a small price to pay to make penance. But not, it was all different. She had made it different. Y/N cared. She really cared and she wanted to help him.

“I do,” he said finally.

“Then I will.” She smiled and reached her hand across the table. Bucky automatically slid his to meet it and squeezed gently. A million other things buzzed through his brain, but the one that forced its way to the top was surprising, even to him.

“You never told me why you were crying when you found me,” he smirked. Y/N laughed again and shook her head. She brushed her thumb across his knuckles and bit her lip.

“I know what it feels like to be in that place,” she explained. “To feel like the world would be a better place without you in it. I can’t stand the idea of someone else feeling like that.” She sniffed softly and Bucky squeezed her hand again.

“I’m not sure I’m worth all this trouble,” he murmured. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“I do,” she said confidently. Bucky’s eyes widened and panic flooded him. She knew him. Had she known him the entire time? Was she just pretending not to for his benefit?

“You do?” he asked dejectedly. He prepared himself to hear all the same things people had been telling him. It’s not your fault, Bucky. That wasn’t you. You weren’t in control. He’d heard it hundreds of times. Everyone wanted to help the Winter Soldier come to terms with what he’d done. But the Winter soldier didn’t need help. Bucky did. Instead of any of that, she smiled wide and said something he never expected.

“Of course I do. You’re James.”

True to her word, Y/N helped Bucky. As it turned out, she was a psychologist at the Brooklyn Veteran’s Hospital. She gave him resources on support groups for Blip survivors, veterans, and individual therapists that could help him. It was a lot, and Bucky was overwhelmed quickly. She could sense it, so she laid out all his options and let him take the lead. He decided to start with the Blip group since he figured people could probably blame him the least for that.

Y/N drove him to his first meeting a week later, and he clutched her hand the entire way there. Since the first night, Bucky had been staying in her guest room, only going back to his apartment for fresh clothes. She didn’t say anything about him staying, but he did notice she started laying fresh towels out for him every day.

“James?” Bucky blinked and shook his head, looking over at her. “We’re here.” He turned and looked out the window at the community center. The building itself was unimposing, just another brick building in Brooklyn, but it made his heart beat faster just looking at it. His metal fingers creaked as he clenched his fists tight. The nails of his right hand bit into his palm as his breathing started to pick up. Y/N’s hand on his shoulder brought him back.

“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, James,” she said gently. “We can try again next week.”

“No,” Bucky said firmly, shaking his head “I can do this.” He turned to look at Y/N and found his comfort once again in the kindness of her eyes.

“I’ll be right here when you’re done,” she reassured him. Bucky couldn’t say anything, so he only nodded. Taking another deep breath, he got out of the car.

This was the routine Bucky and Y/N settled into. It started with just the Blip group that Bucky had to admit was more helpful than he thought it would be. Talking to other people who felt the same things he did made him feel a little less alone. Most of them had lost people and all of them had returned to a world vastly different than the one they knew. Bucky liked going to meetings, and he ever started to make friends. After a couple of months, he added the veteran support group too. A few more months after that, he started individual therapy.

It always worked the same way. Y/N would drive him to the first few meetings and wait outside in her car. Once he felt more comfortable, she would walk him there, but she didn’t wait. Eventually, he would take himself and she would wait for him at home.

Home. That was something else that changed completely. Bucky kept his apartment for a while, but after the first year he could count on one hand the number of times he’d slept there. Y/N didn’t mind him staying and shushed him whenever he tried to bring up the idea of him paying rent.

“James, I’m fine,” was always her response. “I’ve been paying for this place on my own for years.” The day he decided to let the lease on his apartment go, he called her landlord and paid her next year’s rent in full. She’d yelled at him when she found out, but soon after they both dissolved into tears and that was the last they’d ever talked about it.

He told Sam about her a week after they met, and Sam told him he was crazy.

“You just went home with her?” Sam shouted. “She could be crazy! How did she know you weren’t crazy?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Bucky sighed. “It just felt like it was what I was supposed to do.”

“Are you sleeping with her?” Sam asked directly.

“What?” Bucky yelled in disbelief. “No!”

“But you want to.”

“Sam, no,” Bucky insisted. “Y/N and me…it’s just not like that.” Sam smirked and nodded, clearly not believing him.

Nobody that he told seemed to believe that what Bucky and Y/N had wasn’t anything beyond friendship, but it was. Maybe it had something to do with the strange circumstances in which they had met, but to them it didn’t matter. Their bond was strong and purely platonic. They did everything together. Movie nights, picnics, board games on rainy days. Bucky even caved and let her make him a cake and sing to him on his birthday, something he swore he’d never let anyone do ever again. Despite the constant nudging from everyone in their lives, they never had a hint of romance between then. Bucky cherished her and their friendship, but that was all it ever was. And it was enough.

As time wore on, the pair of them fell into their new normal. Y/N would go to work, and Bucky would stay at home. At first, it was strange, being alone in someone else’s apartment. He spent most of his time watching TV or taking walks, just killing the time until his next meeting or until Y/N got home. As he got more comfortable, he started cooking, often having dinner done when she got back.

“You’re like the perfect house husband,” she joked.

It wasn’t always easy. Or good. The hardest part came not long after Bucky started one-on-one therapy. His therapist warned him that digging into old memories might trigger nightmares, and boy were they right. He woke up one night in a cold sweat, the echo of his scream clawing at his throat.

“James!” Y/N called his name as she rushed into his room. “Are you okay? What happened?” Bucky swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a nightmare. I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” she hushed, sitting next to him on the bed and taking his hand. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” Bucky shut his eyes and squeezed her hand gently, trying to calm his breathing enough to convince her he was okay.

“You shouldn’t have to see this,” he panted, feeling his heart fill with shame.

“James, no,” she murmured, moving closer to brush his damp hair from his face. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” he yelled, looking up at her with wet eyes. “It isn’t fair of me to put this burden on you. It’s mine to carry, not yours.” Her face was unreadable as she stared at him, fingers still brushing through his hair.

“Then you carry it,” she whispered. “And I’ll carry you.”

It was at that moment Bucky realized the depth of his love and gratitude for Y/N. Even in his darkest moments, like now or the day she found him on the bridge, she never judged or belittled him, never shied away when he tried to push her out. All she ever had was kindness and compassion. It was also the first time that Bucky thought that maybe, just maybe, he was worth saving.

“I’m not light,” Bucky muttered.

“That’s okay,” Y/N shrugged. “I’m stronger than I look.” She leaned back in bed, wrapping her arms around Bucky and whispering in his ear.

“You’re not alone, James.”

Eight months after Bucky moved in, Y/N came home sobbing.

“My dad died,” she managed to get out before collapsing in grief. Bucky caught her before she hit the ground and carried her to the couch. He held her as she sobbed, brushing his fingers through her hair. He’d never seen her like this. She was so strong all the time that watching her break down shook him a bit. Bucky had never even taken a second to think that she might need some of the same comfort she’d been giving him all this time. He chastised himself for being so damn selfish and vowed not to let it happen again. Y/N had been his rock, and he’d be damned if he kept taking her for granted.

“He was the only family I had left,” she whimpered against him. “I’m all alone now.” Bucky held back his own tears and kissed her head gently.

“You’re not alone, Y/N.”

Before either of them knew it, two years had passed. Bucky felt the best he had since the ‘40s. His panic attacks were almost completely under control, and when they did happen, he was much more capable of pulling himself back. He was helping to run the veteran’s support group now, which had almost doubled in size since his first meeting. The burden he carried felt lighter every day, and some days he barely noticed it at all.

Y/N was thriving as well. She’s been promoted at work, and she was back in school working on her PhD. About six months after Bucky moved in, she’d started dating a doctor named Eric from her hospital. It had been a little awkward when she first introduced him to Bucky, her hulking and intimidating best friend and roommate, but the two men bonded quickly. Y/N never said anything out loud, but Bucky getting along with Eric meant more than she could ever say.

One the two-year anniversary of their meeting, Bucky had planned a big night. He prepared a big dinner and got several movies ready for them to marathon, a tradition they had started for important dates. He was just putting the finishing touches on dinner when he heard the front door open.

“James?” Y/N called from the door. “I’m home!”

“Kitchen!” he called back. She strolled in, her cheeks flushed and a huge smile plastered on her face. Bucky pulled a pan off the stove and smiled at her.

“Well, you look like the cat that ate the canary,” he said, kissing her cheek gently, “What’s going on, doll?” Y/N didn’t say anything, she just let out a sort of squealing noise and held up her left hand to show him the diamond ring shining on her fourth finger.

Several emotions ran through Bucky in a very short amount of time. The first thing he felt was a pang of jealousy, not because he wanted to be the one to marry her, but because he didn’t want to lose what they had. That was quickly replaced by a fleeting moment of sadness because this news meant that things were definitely going to change, and Bucky didn’t do well with change. It had just been him and Y/N for so long now, he wasn’t sure if he could do this all without her. Finally, and most strongly, elation settled into his heart. He’d never seen Y/N so happy, and she was still bouncing on the balls of her feet. Bucky had watched her put aside so many things in her life, and sacrifice so much to be there for him, and now she needed him to be there for her. He quickly set the hot pan down and swept her up into his arms, spinning her around the kitchen.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” he exclaimed, hugging her tight. “Congratulations! That’s amazing!” Y/N held him tight as he spun her and closed her eyes. She’d seen the emotions that had played across his face in the split second before she was in his arms. Bucky was the best friend she’d ever had, and the last thing she wanted was to not be able to spend every day with him. But she loved Eric. She knew he was the one for her, and Bucky knew it too. He finally set her down and kissed her forehead.

“I’m so happy for you,” he said with a smile. “You and Eric are perfect for each other.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to derail your dinner,” she giggled. “I was just so excited I had to tell you. You’re the first person I’ve told.” Bucky smiled wide and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against her hair.

“I love you too, James,” she said softly. “Your rice is burning.”

“Shit!”

After dinner, Bucky and Y/N curled up on the couch with a couple glasses of wine to watch the movies. He had his arm around her and she had her head rested on his shoulder, as was the norm for movie night. They watched the movie in silence for a while before Y/N spoke.

“Hey, James?”

“Hmm?”

“Um…so, I have a favor to ask,” she stammered.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Well…you know I don’t really have any family,” she said, wringing her hands. “Ever since my dad died, you’re the closest thing I have. And you mean so much to me. You’re my best friend and next to Eric you’re the most important person in my life. So, I was wondering if you’d walk me down the aisle?”

A smile spread across Bucky’s face as he looked down at Y/N. Here she was, the most confident person he knew, wringing her hands and biting her lip nervously as if he’d ever say anything but yes. Bucky’s heart felt so full he thought it might burst. Smiling wide, he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I would be honored,” he answered.

The wedding day arrived in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Bucky didn’t have much to do with the planning, thankfully, but he showed up to what he was told to and walked where he was supposed to. Mostly he stood to the side with Eric, nodding along and offering input only when directly asked.

The morning of the wedding, Bucky arrived at the church to get ready thinking he’d feel nervous, but shockingly feeling very calm. He put on his tux and brushed his hair back into a small bun at the back of his head. The groomsmen had all assembled for a beer before the ceremony and they invited Bucky to join. He agreed, much more inclined to socialize now than he had been two years ago. Eric smiled at him when he entered, offering him a beer and a hug. Bucky took both with a smile and settled onto one of the small couches in the suite. They all laughed and joked together for a while until the door opened and one of the bridesmaids walked in.

“James?” she asked. “Y/N is asking for you.”

“Duty calls,” he laughed, finishing his beer and nodding to Eric as he left the room. He followed the bridesmaid-dammit what was her name?-down the hall to the bridal suite. He waited for her to open the door before he stepped inside.

Even after seeing the pictures of the dress, the hairstyle, and the jewelry, nothing prepared Bucky for what he would see when he walked into the room. Y/N was seated in a small chair near an open window, her bouquet of yellow roses laying on the table. She was staring out the window when he walked in, nervously tapping her nails on the sill. When Bucky cleared his throat, she turned around and a wide smile broke over her face. The other bridesmaids all shared the same knowing smile and stepped out quietly, leaving the two of them alone.

“Wow,” Bucky breathed once they were alone.

“Good wow or bad wow?” she asked with a smirk.

“Amazing wow,” he replied, stepping forward and taking her hands. “You look stunning, Y/N.” She smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes. Bucky tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and furrowed his brow.

“I’m freaking out,” she said abruptly.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“I don’t have something old.” Bucky blinked and stared at her, more confused than he had been when she showed him different swatches of white for her dress that he swore were all the same damn thing.

“Why do you need something old?” he asked, trying to understand.

“It’s what you’re supposed to have!” she cried, her hands starting to shake. “Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. It’s what you’re supposed to have for your wedding. The dress is new, and I have blue in my hairpins but I still need-“

“Doll,” he said, squeezing her hand to cut her off. “I’m 110 years old. I think we’ve got old covered.” She laughed breathlessly but didn’t lose the panic in her eyes.

“I still need something borrowed,” she continued, mildly frantic and hands shaking. Bucky cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look at him.

“Y/N, you have got to relax,” Bucky said firmly. “Everything is fine. I’ve got you.” He reached under his collar and pulled on the chain hanging there, slipping his dog tags off of his neck. His breath caught in his chest and he looked down at the tags as they lay in his hand. These small silver tags were the most important item he owned, and he never so much as let another person hold them. Steve never even touched them. His hands shook a little as he handed them over to Y/N.

“You’ll have to give these back,” Bucky said with a smirk. “But I guess that’s sort of the point of borrowed.”

“James,” she whispered in awe, taking the tags and holding them as though they were made of glass. “I don’t…thank you. I promise I’ll keep them safe.” She slipped them over her neck and smiled up at him, her nerves having melted away. They both beamed at each other with tears in their eyes. Bucky leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I love you so much,” he said softly. “And I’m so happy for you.” Y/N sniffled and dabbed at her eyes.

“If you fuck up my makeup I’ll kick your ass,” she laughed. “Come on. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

The ceremony passed in a bit of a blur. Bucky and Y/N made their way down the aisle, and Bucky couldn’t help but beam when he saw Eric tear up at the sight of her. Vows were exchanged and bird seed was thrown, and the next thing Bucky knew it was time for him to give his speech. It was the only part of the wedding that he wasn’t looking forward to. Y/N had told him he didn’t have to do it, but he could tell she really wanted him to. He’d even brought it up to his therapist who agreed it would be a good idea for him. So, Bucky had swallowed his nerves and prepared a little something, hoping it was good enough to convey what he wanted it to. Rising from his seat, he tapped his metal fingers on his glass and the hall fell silent.

“I’m not really much of a public speaker, so I’ll try and keep this short,” he began, earning a small laugh from the crowd. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is James. I’ve been Y/N’s roommate and best friend for the last two and a half years. I thought about coming up here and telling embarrassing stories about Y/N and making her turn all red, but I decided against it, mostly because she has just as many stories about me that she could retaliate with.”

“I absolutely will!” she called out with a wink.

“So instead, I decided to just say a couple of true things about her,” he continued with a smile. “The first thing I know is true is that Y/N is the kindest, gentlest, and most caring person I’ve ever met. She consistently puts other people’s needs before her own, whether that be at work or in her personal life. She’d give a stranger her last scraps of food or piece of clothing if she could. She cares so fiercely for everyone she meets, and that energy is what draws people to her. It’s what makes people want to be close to her, and I can all but guarantee it’s what made Eric fall for her.

“The second thing I know to be true is that I’ve never seen her happier than she has been since she met Eric. I’ve been lucky enough to watch their relationship since it started, and I consider it my greatest honor to have been able to be a part of this day. The love these two have is inspirational, and if I end up having a fraction of that one day, then I’ll be a very lucky man.

“The last thing I know to be true is that if it weren’t for Y/N, I wouldn’t be alive today. I know that sounds hyperbolic, but it’s the absolute truth. Y/N, you found me when I was at my lowest point. I was drowning, lost in the darkness and you pulled me back into the light. You showed me that I mattered and that I wasn’t alone. All it took was a friend to hold me up, to carry me from hard time to hard time. Even when I told you I didn’t need you, which was a lie by the way, you never left. You saved me, Y/N, and I’ll be grateful to you for the rest of my life. You deserve every single ounce of happiness in this world and I’m so happy that I get to be here to be a small part of that. So, if we could all raise a glass to Y/N and Eric. May your life together be filled with happiness.” Y/N was up out of her seat and rushing toward Bucky with tears in her eyes before he’d finished speaking. She threw herself into his arms as the crowd cheered and cried, both of them sobbing against one another.

Dinner came after the speeches, and then the dance floor opened up. Bucky held back, mostly because modern dancing still confused the hell out of him, until the music slowed, and Y/N appeared at his shoulder.

“May I have this dance?” she asked, reaching out her hand.

“Who am I to say no to the bride?” he responded, taking her hand and letting her lead him to the dance floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he wound his around her waist as they swayed to the music.

“Thank you for doing this,” she whispered, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Anything for you, darlin,” he replied with a smile. They swayed together for a moment longer before she spoke again.

“Eric and I talked,” she started, looking up at him. “We want you to keep the apartment.” Bucky stopped moving and looked down at her, his jaw hanging open slightly.

“Y/N, n-no,” he stammered. “I can’t. That’s your home.”

“It’s your home, too,” she said. “And Eric’s place is plenty big enough and not that far away. I know you still don’t like change and so much is changing. Please, let me do this for you.” All the arguments he’d been preparing for her died when he saw the determination in her eyes. His own grew misty as he slowly nodded.

“Thank you.”

The party was winding down a few hours later, and Bucky was posted up at the bar nursing a whiskey and coke. Y/N and Eric were dancing slowly, smiling brightly at one another. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that grew on his own face as he watched them. The entire day had been perfect and the two of them looked so blissfully happy. Y/N was right. Bucky hated change. Even now, after all the progress he’d made and the work he’d done the idea of things changing still scared him. But something was different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but it was something. He’d come so far since Y/N had found him, a broken man on a bridge, and for the first time in as long as he could remember he felt ready for the change. He could remember telling her when they first met that he didn’t really know who he was anymore. That was the biggest change of all. Now, he knew. Bucky was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the woman who walked up behind him.

“That was one hell of a speech you gave,” she said, causing Bucky to jump slightly. He turned to face her and was slightly taken aback by how beautiful she was. Her long hair fell in curls over her shoulders, so platinum blonde it almost looked white. She had a small smile and leaned against the bar, swirling the drink in her hand.

“Thanks,” Bucky replied, turning all the way to face her fully. “I spent a few minutes on it.” She laughed and moved closer to him.

“Sweet, funny, and handsome,” she remarked. “You might be too good to be true.” Bucky chuckled softly and looked down at his drink.

“There’s a lot more to me than just that,” he said with a wink.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind finding out,” she said, reaching out her hand. “I’m Felicia.”

Bucky took a quick look over his shoulder at Y/N, who was giving him a big thumbs up and nodding enthusiastically. Laughing, he turned back around and shook Felicia’s hand.

“I’m James.”


End file.
